


can the devil speak true?

by tinytree



Category: No. 6 - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, M/M, POV Third Person, Reunion, you might possibly hate me for this i'm not sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-18 06:21:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7303048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinytree/pseuds/tinytree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At least it didn’t hurt at first. Well, that’s what Shion always told himself anyways.<br/>Looking at Nezumi was like looking directly at the sun. He couldn’t understand why he did it, but he did it anyway. Before he realized it, the outer corners of his eyes would start to drip and before he can raise his hand to reach and wipe them dry, he was crying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. shion

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is also posted on my tumblr [**here**](http://tiniestoftrees.tumblr.com/post/146474375354/can-the-devil-speak-true)  
>  can the devil speak true is a reference to macbeth btw

**Can the devil speak true?**

    At least it didn’t hurt at first. Well, that’s what Shion always told himself anyways.

    Looking at Nezumi was like looking directly at the sun. He couldn’t understand why he did it, but he did it anyway. Before he realized it, the outer corners of his eyes would start to drip and before he can raise his hand to reach and wipe them dry, he was crying.

**Ten years ago**

    Nezumi laid soundly, almost peaceful beside him. Shion, a small bundle of naivety and bliss, stared up at the ceiling trying to figure out what he did in life to become so lucky. For once in his life he was not only breathing, he was _living_. He couldn’t fathom how it was for him to live before this, and how the others back home did too. The adrenaline that pumped through his veins made him feel alive, because before then, he couldn’t tell if he was living or simply existing. Sure, Shion was able to count ribs down his torso then, but all thanks to Nezumi-- he felt as if his breaths were not only the rise and fall of his chest, but the in and outtake of the world.

    Laying beside him felt so surreal. Shion often caught himself resisting the urge to touch him. Not in the sense for anything drastic, just a reach out into the void. A small touch-- some sort of reassurance that he was there, that this was real and in the morning after he wouldn’t awaken to silence. Everything was so loud there.

    And he loved it.

    Before, his world was handed to him on a silver platter, where was the joy in living where everything felt defaulted? Nezumi made his hair stand on end, his knees weak when Nezumi would brush past him for a sudden reaction. In the simplest of terms, he was in matter of fact drawn to him, whether Nezumi liked it or not.

    It didn’t seem like enough now.

**Nine years ago**

    The wall is broken, along with Shion’s grip on reality. He could’ve sworn this was all a bad dream and that he would awaken the next day to Nezumi beside him, but the hope was in vain. Safu was gone and so was whatever innocence he had left. Although Shion had proved Nezumi wrong, that you create your own if there doesn’t seem to be a third option, he still felt as if he was waiting for some great storm to pass. The only problem was he couldn’t tell what or who the storm was.

    The only thing that Shion was definitely sure of was that the world isn’t black or white, but a definite shade of grey. Nezumi was always stuck on the idea that you were either on one side of the wall or the other, wrong or right, and good or bad. That was one thing he seemed to have gotten wrong. Shion knew that there was a balance for everything, that whatever great good comes with a great bad, and oh god waking up alone again felt so bad.

    Everything is different now but at least before Shion had changes’ shaking grip tight in his hands. Now the thought of change makes his skin prickle and bottom lip quiver. Maybe change only hurt when you let yourself get too comfortable.

    This has only been the first year without him. He promised a return and Nezumi has never proved himself a liar to Shion.

    He’ll come back.

**Eight years ago**

    It’s been two years now. The child that Shion had rescued during the cleaning operation, “Shion”, has taken a great liking to Inukashi. (Despite how much Inukashi claims having baby Shion around is a pain in the ass, Shion still catches him tucking the child in as they slept.)

    Out of a habit he never knew how he caught, Shion visited the West Block every so often, mostly to check in on Inukashi and Nezumi’s home.

    Nezumi’s books still had a fine layer of dust blanketing them the same way they did before. Shion glanced at Nezumi’s copies of _Macbeth_ and _Hamlet_ and grew a sudden interest in his mice.

    Shion broke a tiny piece off a loaf of bread and set the crumbs down gently. He failed to answer himself why.

**Seven years ago**

    Time does not heal all wounds, just replaces them with new memories. Sure, overtime open wounds are covered with tissue, leaving a scar where time might not ever fade. But at that point, most people forget the wound was even there in the first place. Shion can only hope his were that easy to forget.

    Shion dazed off while working at his mother’s bakery, asking himself countless of questions regarding how Nezumi was or what he must have done to make him leave when he needed him the most. Shion couldn’t tell whether or not to be angry at or pity Nezumi for his lack of compassion. Shion’s reality was shaken in ways no one could ever describe, and the only person he had to share with this was gone. He’s sure that Nezumi’s lack of compassion comes from how he was hardly shown it, but he had hoped that Nezumi would had pushed that aside to help him. Maybe if he was less naive, or less of a nuisance to Nezumi he would have stayed. He would trade anything to have him back in his life again.

    At least from this experience Shion learns that it’s best not to expect anything from anyone. That way you would never be disappointed or left trying to find reasons why something never worked.

    Karan stopped herself from tapping Shion’s shoulder and pulling her son out of whatever trance he was in. His knuckles were snow white from kneading the dough too hard. She chose to ignore his foggy eyes, it was best not to ask about the one who broke his heart.

**Six years ago**

    Just like Karan, Inukashi and Rikiga knew it was best not to mention him. At this point now, Inukashi has began to worry about Nezumi’s side of the bargain for getting intel on the correctional facility. If Inukashi were to suffer, approaching death’s cold kiss, would Nezumi still come to numb the pain?

    Inukashi was given the luxury of never having to care about someone else besides themselves before, but he’s grown wary of how Shion feels now. Based on the wavering uncertainty of Nezumi’s return, everyone including Inukashi, can barely fathom Shion’s feelings without him.

    Inukashi wishes he would have slit Nezumi’s throat while he had the chance. At least then Shion would have hated him instead of himself.

**Five years ago**

    “It’s a library on a Sunday afternoon,” Shion explained to Inukashi with a smile. His hair is brown now, box dyes are easy to work with when your hair is stripped white. The others began to worry about him after he did this however.

    “So… you’re not upset… At all?” Inukashi questioned, highly confused at whatever analogy Shion was trying to get across. “What does being lonely have to do with books?”

    Shion hesitated before answering, taking a long sip from his tea. The sweat from the mug warmed his hands. “See people go to libraries when they want to read books correct?” Inukashi nods. “Well imagine the lonely being a library when it is closed, you know since libraries are typically closed for Sundays. The books are still there but without all the people they really have no purpose. There is no one there to read them.” Shion tilted his head to the side a bit as his roamed around the room. It was an odd feeling being able to finish a sentence without getting cut off and called inarticulate. Although his analogy didn’t exactly do him justice, it made sense in his head anyways. The more he tried to explain it, the more confused he became. Nezumi was always better with words.

    Inukashi gave Shion a long, steady look before crossing his arms and looking away, “Well I don’t see the point in reading when life is always in the way. It’s a dumb pastime anyways.”

    Shion smiled down at his mug and swirled the tea leaves with his spoon.

**Four years ago**

    Karan urged Shion to talk to a counselor, a therapist, or anyone who could help her son in ways she knew she couldn’t. She knew Shion was trying to cope by keeping himself constantly busy with working or volunteering, but she was worried that he would break. Karan knew that Shion was one to keep a leveled head under stress but she didn’t want him to become overwhelmed. This wasn’t the way to distract himself from the death he had seen and how cruel the world can be.

    She knew he missed Safu and blamed himself for her death, she knew he shook hands with death too many times while he was gone, she knew the change in his appearance wasn’t only skin deep, and that he’s had more than enough of a fair share with disappointment.

    Shion had tried to find someone he could find refuge in. He tried to date but found himself following a similar pattern with men. All had a different shade of gray eyes and black hair, but none that was close enough to _his_.

    Shion didn’t know why he bothered, he knew he couldn’t let himself go back to his old ways, to a habit he never fully kicked. He never meant to date the men with the pale skin and soft face, this wasn’t what he sought out to find. They were drawn to him the way he was to them, but this wasn’t what he needed, not what he wanted. Even though Shion just couldn’t place his finger on exactly what he wanted anymore. Not only did he feel lost, he felt completely and utterly alone.

**Three years ago**

    If Shion had the privilege of seeing Nezumi again, he would kiss his knuckles before punching him in the face. Shion’s only wish was to make Nezumi hurt the way he did for the past seven years. He erased the fairytale image of Nezumi from his brain, he forgot how lovely he performed on stage, how his voice echoed off the walls when he spoke. He erased anything he could of him until he was left with his name and the hurt he left.

    Shion hated himself for the fact he could wake up one day and forget why the earth rotates on its axis, that all things are held back by gravity, _his own goddamn name_ , and still remember Nezumi’s. He hated how Nezumi forgot him so easily.

    Sometimes Shion wished that when he brought that gun to his head all those years ago, that Nezumi let him pull the trigger. At least then he wouldn’t have head to deal with all this regret. Maybe if he was captured before Nezumi came when they were 16, Safu would still be alive, he wouldn’t have had to see the horrors he had, the reality of what No.6 really was, and worst of all get attached to Nezumi.

**Two years ago**

    Shion came to the conclusion that Nezumi was never coming back. He stopped checking on his home, checking for any signs of mice, and rereading the same passages of Macbeth Nezumi had read to him. The only thing Shion has left to do his heal and accept this as an experience and let it pass.

    Shion still dyed his hair and covered his scar. This was a part of his routine he had came to live with and will continue to live with for the rest of his life.

    A few years back, Shion had quit his job with the reconstructional committee and got a job at the local library for a reason he never seemed to know. Now he figures it was something related to Nezumi, so he quit his job and stopped hoping one day he would walk in and check out whatever novel he would.

    Maybe these are little changes but Shion has grown to respect all change and just roll with the punches.

**One year ago**

    If a few years ago Shion knew he would be dating a fellow coworker from the reconstructional committee, he would have never had quit his job. He was sweet, caring, and everything Shion needed at the moment. Shion wishes he could have met him sooner.

    When Shion introduced him to Karan, she was overjoyed. Of course, she would never admit to Shion that it was mostly because he moved on, but she was still thankful that he found happiness nonetheless.

    For once in what seemed like forever, Shion was finally content with his life.

**Now**

    Shion was helping with Karan’s bakery like he normally would any given weekend. He didn’t expect anything different to occur, but when it did he was a cold, hard slap in the face.

    Nezumi paraded into the bakery as if no time had past at all. Shion could tell however, the years didn’t favor him all too kindly. Although Nezumi grew taller, he was much lankier than he was before. Tiny bruises glowed on his arms, and some on his neck. But with time and experience, Shion can very much tell those are a very different kind of mark.

    Nezumi nodded at Shion and pointed to a lemon pastry, “Can I get two of those?”

    Shion suppresses the urge to punch him square in the face. Yes, Shion has accepted his life now as it is but the fact that Nezumi can show up abruptly without seeming phased at all, makes his blood boil. Alas, Shion ignores this and stuffs the two lemon pastries into a bag.

    “That will be 2.50.” Shion replies without looking at Nezumi whatsoever. Instead, he stares at the cash register and tries to keep his composure.

    Nezumi stops himself from frowning at this, he knew what he did was wrong but he didn’t expect Shion to act like this. He halfheartedly thought he would smile, light up, or at least cry. Then again, ten years is a long time. He didn’t even expect to him to dye his hair.

    “Can you at least look at me?”

    Shion shoots him a cold glare and places the bag on the counter, “Cash or credit?”

    “Do you honestly believe I wouldn’t carry 2.50 on me?” Nezumi scoffs and reaches into his pocket, pulling out 3 dollar bills.

    Shion shrugs and takes Nezumi’s money, giving back his change in the same moment, “I don’t know, I don’t know your life. And frankly, I don’t care to.”

    Nezumi raises a brow, taken back that this is the same person he met when he was twelve. Then again, maybe he isn’t the same. “I see you’ve sharpened your tongue.”

    “I see you’re still an asshole. Now take your bag and go.”

    “Hey, hey I promised a reunion didn’t I? Your Majesty, I always keep my promises.”

    Shion contemplates whether or not he should. He remembers the overwhelming amount of bad memories of being alone compared to the good he shared with him. But now Shion’s life is finally looking up for him, he got a promotion at his work, he’s moving in with his boyfriend, he’s gotten comfortable. He doesn’t want anymore changes.

    Shion shakes his head, “Well, here I am and here you are, we’ve interacted after a decade of silence...” Shion mutters under his breath, “...Mostly from your end, this has much as a reunion we’re going to have. Glad you ‘kept’ your promise, now here,” he hands the pastry bag to him, “Go.”

    Nezumi takes the bag and remains silent. He opens his mouth to say something but chooses not to. He can’t say he’s not happy that Shion has grown a strong backbone since he left, he just hoped he knew how to respond.  

    Shion feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest. He feels a sense of empowerment from leaving Nezumi dumbfounded, hopefully he’d get a taste for how Shion felt all those years. Nezumi had been running away all this time and lost what exactly he was running towards, and where he started running from.

    Nezumi leaves the bakery and Shion at last, feels free.


	2. nezumi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nezumi was never one for hope, but hope looked a lot like red eyes with a heavy heart.  
> Nezumi’s mind couldn’t seem to coil around whatever entity Shion could be. He was like water flowing through Nezumi’s hands; fluid and free. The more he tried to reach and hold him within his palms, the more he slipped away. Shion was an ocean and Nezumi was a cautious sailor who was afraid to drown.  
> However, the more he tried to steer away, the more he sank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning this has slight nsfw and was written in one sitting. so honestly it's not my best but i just wanted it done

**Nothing in his life became him like the leaving it.**

    Nezumi was never one for hope, but hope looked a lot like red eyes with a heavy heart. 

    Nezumi’s mind couldn’t seem to coil around whatever entity Shion could be. He was like water flowing through Nezumi’s hands; fluid and free. The more he tried to reach and hold him within his palms, the more he slipped away. Shion was an ocean and Nezumi was a cautious sailor who was afraid to drown. 

    However, the more he tried to steer away, the more he sank.

**Ten years ago**

    Laying down next to Shion was admittedly, less of a chore than Nezumi sought out to be. Nezumi would watch Shion’s eyes open and close as if watching the days go by. The flickers of light from Nezumi’s dingy apartment was the night sky going and coming to an end. Shion’s eyelashes would flutter a lot like Nezumi’s heartbeat, but before he could realize this, he was already out of bed trying to suppress any feeling that he had.

    Nezumi couldn't lie to himself as much as he used to before he met Shion. Although Nezumi is still trying to figure out whether this is a good or bad thing, he still has trouble finding out himself. 

    To Nezumi, Shion trying to read him was a lot like trying to navigate around a crowded room, blindfolded. Of course, Shion was rather determined, and still tried and tried to bypass Nezumi’s cold walls. Nezumi has come to realize that this notion, wasn't in vain.

    So, Nezumi watches Shion’s heavy eyelids slowly close before he falls asleep. 

    Nezumi would be lying if he said he didn’t like the company.

**Nine years ago**

    Watching Shion kill for him only to later bring the same gun to his head, was a picture Nezumi could never forget. Yes, No.6 was destroyed, but seeing Shion’s bottom lip quiver as he saw his best friend die before his eyes, was never something he was willing to compensate.

    Before he stepped foot onto the correctional facility and before Shion could settle in the heart he called his home, Nezumi would have said Shion was a lot like a moth he never got around to kill. His presence wasn't necessarily a nuisance but he didn't particularly favor it, (at first, more or less). The little changes Shion would make would create a great shift in Nezumi’s life if he let him stay too long.

    And he did.

    He knew he couldn’t let someone in that easily, but the gunshots hurt a lot less than the heartbreak he felt for Shion. Nezumi knew he shouldn't cry for others. This was what his grandmother taught, but it hurt seeing him hurt. 

    It hurt seeing his eyes water and become swollen with tears. It hurt watching his innocence slowly fade-- it was as if he watched the light within him die. Nezumi was all too familiar with this corrupted feeling, he wouldn't even wish it upon his worst enemy. Knowing he was the cause to Shion’s loss of innocence, was more than enough reason to cry.

    This is why he had to leave.

**Eight years ago**

    Late at night when he left Shion and left everything that seemed too much like home, Nezumi would clench his eyes shut and try to fabricate various shapes and colors to forget Shion's eyes. 

    He hated how those same eyes were the color of the hate he felt for himself, the color of fire that took his people. He hated how the same color could be the eyes of someone so pure, someone so untouched by the world until he came along.

    Nezumi can’t help but feel partially, (or wholly), at fault for Shion’s demise. And he still can’t tell if a part of him is grateful for the reality check he gave, or to dread harming Shion’s mental state. 

    He promised him a reunion, but it might take time to forgive himself. 

    He’s never done it before.

**Seven years ago**

    With each passing day, the more Nezumi’s guilt seemed to rise, and the more he realized he actually missed the airhead. He missed Shion’s stupid questions about his day and his remarks on how proud he tended to act sometimes. 

    He missed sleeping next to him and for once letting someone care about him, letting someone worry about him.

    He’s been alone for far too long to begin getting comfortable with it, the change was pleasant. Of course, he would never admit this. He doesn’t want to be deemed as weak or put Shion at risk, but Shion defending him when insulted even when they’re right the majority of the time, was a sight he didn’t want to pass up. Nezumi would deny when asked, but he would do the same for Shion too.

    He just wishes he got to tell him that.

**Six years ago**

    The more time passed, the harder it became to come back. Nezumi was afraid of coming back after all this time. Who knew, maybe Shion had died while he was away, or maybe he’s grown tired of waiting. Nezumi would have too, so he wouldn’t blame him. 

    Forgiving himself would mean he would have to forget. He would have to forget the hurt he caused Shion, and to Nezumi, this was a lot easier said than done. Forgetting how Shion’s body shook, forgetting how foggy his eyes became when he thought all Nezumi wanted him for was to destroy No.6, was an image he couldn’t get out of his head. 

    No matter how much Nezumi drank, he couldn’t stop Shion from intruding his thoughts and making a home in his heart. The harder Nezumi kissed the strangers who spoke sweet nothings the way he did, fit his lips all the same. Although they weren’t nearly as gentle nor tender.

    Between sets of Nezumi’s plays, he would find himself pinned against brick walls, staring up at the night sky wondering if Shion was watching the same stars too. Some low life would stick their hand up his costume and gnaw on his neck, their grip way too hard on his arm. He imagines how appalled Shion would be if he saw him now. He was so disgusted at the thought of Rikiga selling Nezumi’s body, he can’t help but feel whatever self worth he had diminish. 

    The lower it became, the more he kissed different faces, the more he found himself between different legs. 

    Sometimes if drank enough, took enough drugs, it might taste like love. It might taste like someone familiar, someone he once knew and could take refuge in.

**Five years ago**

    He swore he could have saw him. A strip of white amongst a sea of people he could get lost in. Before Nezumi could realize, let alone stop it, his legs would be running across pavements to reach him. His legs felt heavy but he still pushed on forward, never minding how sore he felt from previous nights. 

    His blood pumped faster through his veins at the thought of seeing him again, the thought of being able to hold him and catch this dream he never knew he had. Nezumi would insult himself later for getting his adrenaline up just for the possibility of seeing him, as for now it was worth it.

    He chased after, what he presumed to be Shion, to a nearby coffee shop and froze when he realized it wasn’t him. He didn’t have a scar or the same eyes.

    Nezumi never understood the phrase, “heart sink”, until he felt his literal heart sink. Not in the metaphorical sense, but the organ itself. There must be something from with him, he assumed. He never felt a wound this deep that didn’t leave a bruise or gash. His chest felt heavy and his pulse seemed to lower, a literal heart ache.

    He ignored this and head back home, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything else.

**Four years ago**

    “Please… just please tell me how he is?” Nezumi pleads to Inukashi. He came back to West Block in hopes of seeing Shion around but to no avail, his apartment was left untouched and there isn’t a sign of him anywhere. This was his last resort after searching for days, all over West Block and the other districts.

    Inukashi kept his guard up, arms folded. Although Nezumi paid him extra for the late payment, he couldn’t give him the benefit of the doubt. He didn’t deserve it in his eyes. Shion hurt enough without him here and he feared bringing him back would just make things worse.

    “Why? So you can go back to how things were before?” Inukashi kissed his teeth, “No. You don’t get that. You know he cared about you, right? You, of all people,” he scoffs, “You don’t get to show up out of nowhere.”

    Inukashi wouldn’t tell a soul, but Shion spent a great deal of time with him when Nezumi was away. He had helped with the hotel but after the first few years while Nezumi was gone, he stopped. Inukashi grew to care about Shion and hated seeing him wait for something that would never come. But here Nezumi was, right in front of him, looking a lot more lost than he ever expected he would be.

    And to be frank, it felt pretty damn satisfying.

    Nezumi sighs, something he used to promise he would never do, but now did anyway. It was a sign of weakness but he knew, he was weakened. Inukashi was taken back at this. “I know, I know. Spare the details, just is he okay? Alive?”

    Inukashi rolls his eyes, “Yes, alive. Wow, you really are pathetic now aren’t you? Never thought you would let yourself be this vulnerable. I could try to kill you right now and you wouldn’t know how to defend yourself. You’re weak.”

    Nezumi clenches his jaw shut, he knows he’s right. He just hates this truth. He became the person he swore he never would, but for Shion, it was worth it. “I’m aware, I’m a hypocrite. But if you try anything, I wouldn’t hesitate to slit your throat,” he says through his teeth. “Are you going to tell me where he is or do I have to bribe you?”

    “I would never sell out my friend.” The words left Inukashi’s mouth before he could stop them, he’s never used the term “friend” before. It just felt natural to refer Shion as someone he could trust, someone he could look out for. 

    “Friend? Thought you said it was best to be alone and only depend on yourself?” Nezumi says with a sly grin, “See, I’m not the only one who can change.”

    “Shut it, you’re a rat.”   
  
    “Well, that is my name.”

    Inukashi walks up to Nezumi and throws a hard swing, Nezumi catches his fist before he could reach his cheek, “Not much has changed however,” he lets go of Inukashi and kicks him back, “I see you are going to be of no help, I’ll be going now.”

    Nezumi leaves without turning back. He could sense Inukashi fuming as he left.

**Three years ago**

    Being in No.6 felt as taboo as it sounded. Every where he looked it was painful. Although the people were somewhat happier, at least those who were happy with the change, Nezumi couldn’t help but feel like he stood out.

    He wonders if Shion ever tried to look for him too. 

    He wonders why he’s so attached to him in the first place. Shion somehow affected his life so easily just by being a part of it. He changed his ideals, his thoughts. He was the catalyst for all the change in No.6 when he met him. 

    He can’t but feel drawn to him.

    Drawn to his kindness, his empathy. His absolute naivety, cluelessness, and compassion. Shion was everything he was not.

    People had always said that opposites attract.

**Two years ago**

    He kissed too hard to be Shion. His hair wasn’t as white, or skin as soft, but in a dimly lit room, he looked enough like him for Nezumi to kiss back.

    He looked enough like him for Nezumi to trail those kisses down to his neck and entangle his hands in his hair. Enough for Nezumi to pant and moan beneath him, enough to listen to the honeyed words he had to say about how beautiful he was and believe it.

    He couldn’t stop himself from letting Shion’s name roll of his tongue. To Nezumi, it only sounded beautiful because it was his name. It was Shion who he was with in this moment, not a stranger he met from a bar.

    Nezumi had caught himself saying Shion’s name in bed before, enough times to know that the other heard it too. But they both ignored it and kept going, maybe they were trying to forget someone too.

**One year ago**

    Nezumi takes a good look in the mirror and watches his mouth fall to a straight line. 

    He looks a lot paler than he did before, probably since he rarely gets any sleep. He’s a little embarrassed of all the marks left from previous customers and men. His lips aren’t as pink as they were before, his eyes are sunken in a bit.

    He just looks drained.

    He needs someone to help him, he’s as lost as he ever was before. 

    Nezumi needs Shion. Not in the sense where he needs his presence like before, but a conversation. Just a talk one on one-- all he needs is closure, something to let him know his world isn’t as shattered as he makes it out to be.

**Now**

    After years of mentally preparing himself for this moment, Nezumi steps outside of Karan’s bakery. A large part of him believed Shion would stay in No.6 instead of moving anywhere else, Nezumi just prolonged the inevitable by searching everywhere else but here. The smaller part of him had hoped Shion would have left so Nezumi wouldn’t have to come here again and feel  _ mal du siècle _ .

    A reversed nostalgia.

    Nezumi waits for the courage inside him to build before he enters. He puts on a smug grin and sticks his hands in his pockets. He must show no signs of how he felt for the past years, this wasn’t the Nezumi Shion knew. 

    He walks in and looks around, the years did the bakery nicely. There’s a nice new wallpaper and more tables for customers. The years favored Shion too. He finally hit that growth spurt, and has seem to eat more protein. He isn’t as small and thin as he was before. He grew up.

    The only thing that took Nezumi back was the hair, he had liked the white and didn’t expect Shion to dye it back brown. Nezumi shrugs this off and walks up to the counter. He nods at Shion and points to a lemon pastry, “Can I get two of those?”

    Nezumi tries to find the words to apologize as Shion puts gloves on to grab the pastries. He wants to ask him how he’s been, to ask him if he watched the stars like Nezumi did in hopes of being somehow connected after all this time. He looked beautiful still, even when he was angry. Maybe he resembled the fire a lot more than he thought.

    Shion stuffs the two lemon pastries into a bag, looking as if he’s trying so hard not to break. “That will be 2.50.” Shion replies, staring at the cash register.

    Nezumi refrains from frowning, he’s well aware of the things he’s done. The hurt he’s caused, he knows because he feels it too. He can’t picture Shion to understand and Nezumi can’t seem to explain it. He hoped for any other reaction from Shion than this bitterness. He has every right to be, it just hurt. 

    He can’t show it though.

    “Can you at least look at me?”

    Shion shoots him a cold glare, that admittedly hurt a lot more than expected, and places the bag on the counter, “Cash or credit?”

    “Do you honestly believe I wouldn’t carry 2.50 on me?” Nezumi scoffs, hiding his hurt behind a harder demeanor, and reaches into his pocket, pulling out 3 dollar bills.

    Shion shrugs and takes Nezumi’s money, giving back his change in the same moment, “I don’t know, I don’t know your life. And frankly, I don’t care to.”

    Nezumi raises a brow, taken back that this is the same person he met when he was twelve. Then again, time changes us all. Nezumi is a product of time’s alterations, too. “I see you’ve sharpened your tongue.”

    “I see you’re still an asshole. Now take your bag and go.”

    Nezumi would have disagreed but he knew he was right. A lot of people seem to be right about him lately. He may have changed, but that was the one thing that seemed to stay. “Hey, hey I promised a reunion didn’t I? Your Majesty, I always keep my promises.”

    Nezumi hated the words as they left, this was hardly a promise kept. He just can’t find the right words to describe how sorry he is without crying on his knees. 

    Shion shakes his head, “Well, here I am and here you are, we’ve interacted after a decade of silence...” Shion mutters under his breath, “...Mostly from your end, this has much as a reunion we’re going to have. Glad you ‘kept’ your promise, now here,” he hands the pastry bag to him, “Go.”

    Nezumi takes the bag and remains silent. Everything he never thought would never happen just did. He can’t lie though, Shion’s backbone makes him a bit proud. He just wish he had some of his left to respond. 

    He could see Shion shake with anger. Nezumi is well aware his reunion is long overdue. He mutters a soft sorry probably neither of them can hear and leaves the bakery, feeling utterly, and completely alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos are greatly appreciated even tho this kinda sucked

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry. comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!!  
> also i'm highkey debating on making one of the ten year things in nezumi's experience so let me knowwwww


End file.
